


why don't you cast yourself on me

by silverfoxflower



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Face-Fucking, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Succubi & Incubi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:11:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26290141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverfoxflower/pseuds/silverfoxflower
Summary: Jaskier was plucking his lute in the woods, minding his own business when a Witcher crashed through the underbrush, stinking of drink and unspent frustrations.“Ho! What is this? An unwelcome intruder upon my concert?” Jaskier unhooked the belt of his lute from his shoulder as he stole glances of the Witcher from under his eyelashes. Large. Handsome. Strong enough to break him over his leg. His type. “They said the day might come, but I did not think it would be so soon. Truly, word of my talent must be spreading.”The Witcher frowned as if he did not fully comprehend what Jaskier’s words meant in the order which he said them. “They said I would find you here, Incubus.”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 15
Kudos: 415





	why don't you cast yourself on me

Jaskier was plucking his lute in the woods, minding his own business when a Witcher crashed through the underbrush, stinking of drink and unspent frustrations. 

“Ho! What is this? An unwelcome intruder upon my concert?” Jaskier unhooked the belt of his lute from his shoulder as he stole glances of the Witcher from under his eyelashes. Large. Handsome. Strong enough to break him over his leg. His type. “They said the day might come, but I did not think it would be so soon. Truly, word of my talent must be spreading.” 

The Witcher frowned as if he did not fully comprehend what Jaskier’s words meant in the order which he said them. “They said I would find you here, Incubus.” 

“I prefer Julian if we’re being formal, Jaskier if we’re being friendly,” Jaskier set his lute carefully on the tree stump before walking towards the Witcher, feigning nonchalance while he flexed his fingers behind his back in preparation for a sign. One could never tell intent with Witchers. “I’ve allowed a few to call me daddy, but that’s really a privilege.” He sidled into the Witcher’s space with ease, reading the surprise on his face. “What’s _your name_ , intruder?” 

“I’m Geralt of Rivia,” he growled, turning to keep Jaskier in his sights as Jaskier walked a slow circle around him . “The people of Posada sent me.” 

“The people, huh?” Jaskier rolled his eyes. “I’m so glad that I could bring them all together like this. Unbelievable.” He folded his arms over his chest, looking at Geralt. “And I’m sure you’re just an overpaid messenger boy, here to ask me nicely to fuck off.” 

“Not that well paid,” Geralt muttered.

“Well no need to use your scary swords on me,” Jaskier sniffed, “I know when I’m not wanted.” He turned to walk away, moving two steps before he stumbled, sinking to his knees, “Oh,” he sighed, putting the back of his hand against his forehead. “I suddenly feel light-headed. I haven’t eaten yet today … how will I possibly be able to move?” 

Jaskier opened one eye to see the Witcher staring at him with an unreadable expression. He flopped back on the grass, moaning theatrically as he arched his back to show off his ass in the best light. The satyr legs sometimes threw people off, but he knew that this angle pulled up the back of his loincloth, offering just a tempting peek-

Geralt sighed, and Jaskier heard the jingle of a belt being unbuckled. Jaskier licked his lips, his tail beginning to whip in anticipation of a meal. He was a relatively young incubus yet and had never fed off of a Witcher, though he’d heard drool-worthy tales of their stamina. Among succubi they were a delicacy. 

Jaskier sprang up as Geralt pulled off his shirt, eager to get his hands on him. Geralt was as bulky as he looked under his ill-fitted tunic, his muscles hard and twitching under Jaskier’s fingers. There was a leanness to him, a heat in his gaze and vulnerability in his exposed ribs. You’re hungry too, Jaskier thought, and looped his arms around Geralt’s shoulders. 

“Do incubi kiss?” Geralt asked, with genuine curiosity. 

“I cannot speak for all, but I certainly enjoy it,” Jaskier said, eagerly arching forward to take Gerat’s lips. 

The kiss was hot. Filthy. Wet. Jaskier moaned in the space between their mouths, wriggling his ass as Geralt pulled him fully onto his lap with firm arms. His sword-callused hands felt rough as they roamed against Jaskier’s sun-warm, freckled back, then lower, tugging his loincloth free. 

When Jaskier pressed their chests together he could feel a vibration against his collarbone. Curious, he pulled back, running a finger down the silver chain Geralt wore around his neck, to the medallion which moved with an even more violent frenzy at Jaskier’s touch. 

“This could be interesting,” Jaskier purred, sucking kisses down the curve of Geralt’s neck until he reached the medallion, which he slipped into his mouth while glancing up at Geralt. 

Geralt was breathing hard and trying not to show it, his jaw clenched and his face flushed as he watched Jaskier moan around the vibrating silver in his mouth. With a grunt, Geralt dug his fingers into the muscles of Jaskier’s ass and shoved their hips closer, grinding their cocks together in a punishing rhythm.

Since Geralt had so kindly unbuckled his pants for Jaskier (though he had kept his sword belt on, suspicious man), Jaskier was able to grab a hold of Geralt’s bare cock, which was just as thick and lovely as the rest of him. Geralt groaned as Jaskier pressed their cocks together and began pumping with both his hands. Jaskier arched, his tail twisting in pleasure and the medallion falling from his spit-slick mouth as he began lapping up Geralt’s energy. It was delicious, hot and complex and dark, heavy on Jaskier’s tongue. 

Feeling almost drugged, Jaskier sank his teeth into Geralt’s neck, wishing he could eat him whole. 

“I’m close,” Geralt grunted, and Jaskier pushed away, panting.

“Please, not yet,” he slid down Geralt’s body until his belly was pressed against the cool grass, and Geralt’s cock was in front of his face. With a purr, Jaskier rubbed his face over it, loving the hot pulse against his skin, the delicate velvet over hard steel. Geralt sucked in a breath as Jaskier opened his lips and drew Geralt’s cockhead inside, suckling it like a sour plum before pushing deeper, past where a human’s gag reflex might have posed objection. 

Jaskier’s cock, trapped under his body, throbbed at the taste, the weight of Geralt in his mouth. Gagged tight, he could hardly stop the drool from slipping from the edges of his lips and slicking his chin. The only noises in the glen were Geralt’s soft groans and the wet, sloppy sounds of Jaskier’s enthusiastic work.

Geralt’s hand lowered hesitantly to Jaskier’s head, smoothing over his hair and tentatively petting his horns. Jaskier leaned into the touch, glancing up with silent encouragement. With a shudder, Geralt wrapped his fingers around both of Jaskier’s horns and used them to guide his rhythm, fucking into Jaskier’s face as Jaskier squirmed, his fingers digging into Geralt’s hard thighs. 

Jaskier moaned loudly when he felt the first, warm pulse of Geralt’s come on his tongue, drinking it down greedily and lapping at Geralt’s cock long after he softened.

“At least let me catch my breath,” Geralt muttered, watching Jaskier through slitted eyes as he leaned back on his arms. 

“So much for the famed Witcher stamina,” Jaskier grinned. But he released Geralt, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Humming contentedly, he began to groom himself, finger-combing his hair and knuckling away the tear-smeared kohl from under his eyes. 

“Don’t you need … ” Geralt was frowning at Jaskier’s cock, which was still hard, bobbing on his lap. 

“Hm?” Jaskier tilted his head. “Oh that? A bit of an afterthought, really. Most of my meals, it’s hardly worth the bother.” 

“Hmmm,” Geralt’s voice was warm, the sun through the trees dappling him with shadow. “Is that what I am? A meal?”

Jaskier smiled, crawling forward. “Well you’re certainly too large for a snack,” he whispered against Geralt’s mouth, before they melted into a kiss. This time it was lazy, slow, almost fond. Jaskier sucked Geralt’s tongue into his mouth and Geralt responded with a nip to Jaskier’s lower lip, making him shudder. Soft, sighing moans began to escape from Jaskier’s mouth as Geralt kneaded Jaskier’s ass, brushing dry fingers against his hole and squeezing his tail in fascination. When Geralt scratched blunt fingernails down Jaskier’s back, to the sensitive spot at the base of his tail, Jaskier cried out, arching against Geralt as his entire body trembled. 

“You’ve slept with a succubus before, haven’t you?” Jaskier said accusingly, tingly, ticklish pleasure making him squirm in Geralt’s grasp.

Geralt’s only reply was to raise one eyebrow and smile before pushing Jaskier onto the ground, spaying wide his legs and pulling his ass up. Jaskier was so surprised he nearly brained Geralt with a hoof before pulling his knees to his chest. 

Spitting on his fingers, Geralt began to work them into Jaskier’s hole. He was impatient but not rough, painstakingly thorough in his prep although Jaskier assured him between moans that he was made for this, and hardly an amateur. 

Geralt was hardly an amateur either. 

At the first breach of Geralt’s thick cock, Jaskier’s eyes fluttered shut and he arched sharply, opening his mouth in a cry. Geralt palmed Jaskier’s ass, lifting it completely off the ground as he shoved himself deep inside Jaskier, making his hands curl into fists. 

He’d never been fed or fucked this well in his life. 

Geralt’s hips initiated a punishing rhythm, and Jaskier tried to pump his cock to the same, feeling himself hurtling fast, fast to the sharp edge, then over, crying out as he spilled across his chest. 

And Geralt didn’t seem even near to softening. 

Jaskier grinned as his cock hardened again, his refractory period more than willing to take on the challenge. 

Finally, worthy prey.

\--

“Why, I’m coming with you, of course,” Jaskier said. 

They were in his nest. The Witcher had fed him so well that Jaskier had given him the privilege of seeing what he had shown no other lover, piling him in furs and singing him softly to sleep. Now in the morning, Geralt looked sleepy and scruffy more than a little puzzled as Jaskier walked out in a full Bard’s ensemble, with boots to hide his hairy legs and a floppy hat over his horns. Glamoured, of course, to hide his true form.

“Why?” Geralt demanded. 

“Silly,” Jaskier said, slinging his lute over his shoulder. “You asked me to leave, remember?” 

“I didn’t-” Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose. He was covered in love bites and bruises, and under Jaskier’s clothes he was satisfied he looked the very same. Well-loved. “Why me?” 

“Because when it comes to you, Witcher,” Jaskier purred, leaning down to flick his tongue across Geralt’s ear. “I find that just a taste won’t do.”

**Author's Note:**

> my [tumblr](https://greyduckgreygoose.tumblr.com/tagged/myfic)


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